Leave Your Lover
by hewalkslikerain
Summary: When Blaine Anderberry moves in with his sister, he meets her boyfriend. His name's Kurt. He has a smile brighter than all the stars in the sky and these beautiful blue eyes and a way of making Blaine laugh, even when he feels like crying. Blaine can't stop thinking about him... can't help but fall in love with him. He knows that Kurt just doesn't feel the same way. And he's wrong.
1. Blue Meets Hazel

Leave Your Lover 

**~ Chapter One: Blue Meets Hazel ~**

_Disclaimer: Glee isn't mine. Which is sad. For me. _

**_~.~.~.~.~_**

"Is this seat taken?" He asks. And he's gorgeous. Absolutely, mind-numbingly, inconceivably gorgeous. Like an angel. Blaine Anderberry feels only a bit dizzy.

"No," Blaine looks up at the man. Smiles. Moves over on the bench to make enough room for him and says warmly, "Here. You can sit, if you'd like."

He does. And Blaine really, truly cannot help himself. His gaze flicks back to him, every few seconds... he's captivated. This guy – god, he's beautiful. And sometimes he sees Blaine looking at him. And Blaine wants to go dig a hole and hide in it forever. Except then he doesn't anymore, because every time, this man smiles. At him. Yeah. That's – that's nice. Really nice.

"I'm Kurt."

"_Kurt_," He echoes, voice quiet. Very quiet. And his heart flutters. A grin lights up his face. "My name's Blaine."

They shake hands. Smile at each other. Blaine holds onto Kurt's fingers for longer than necessary, just a little tiny bit – because his skin is so soft and warm and such a stunning porcelain.

They're in Central Park. Blaine has a suitcase resting next to him. Kurt doesn't. A light flurry of snow falls all around New York City. It's January 12th. A Monday. 6 AM. There's people – not as much as there usually is, seeing as it's Central Park. But there's people. Blaine pays attention to none of them.

Just Kurt.

**~.~.~.~.~**

A few minutes later, and Kurt's still sitting next to him. It's not the awkward kind of silence, where he's struggling for words, for something to talk about. At least, not for Blaine. It's a kind of silence where Blaine has this silly grin on his face and he looks at his feet and wonders what in the world he did to get someone so ridiculously stunning to sit next to him.

Whatever it was – he's happy he did it. Very happy. Really, really happy.

"So, Kurt."

"Yes, Blaine?" Kurt's teasing him – not in a mean way. In a cute way. In a very very very very cute way that puts Blaine in actual danger of melting right there in Central Park.

"Are you waiting for anyone?"

"My girlfriend." Kurt grimaces – the twinkle in his eyes go dim, the traces of his smile disappear.

Blaine tries. He really does, and tells himself, over and over and over and over: don't be disappointed. So he smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes, and he more than likely looks pathetic. But. He tries.

"Well," He murmurs, realizing how stupid he was – Kurt's far too beautiful to be single. "Your girlfriend's a very lucky lady. Very lucky."

Kurt doesn't say anything.

"I'm waiting for my sister," he says, trying to change the subject, "She won't be here for a few hours. But I've always loved Central Park, so..." He trails off, gaze falling onto the gorgeous guy in front of him, "Let me ask you something, Kurt."

"Shoot."

"Your girlfriend. Does she - does she tell you that you're absolutely, mind-numbingly, inconceivably gorgeous?"

A smile. A real one. And his eyes shine again, bright and gleaming and blue and wonderful. He looks at Blaine. Nothing but Blaine. "No," he says, "She doesn't."

"Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"She really, really should."

**~.~.~.~.~**

A few minutes after that, and Kurt goes. He says he'll be back, and he gives Blaine a smile, and touches his shoulder and leaves Blaine trying to remember how to breathe. But when he gets up, and Blaine watches him walk away – it's painful. His heart hurts. And then Blaine remembers that he has a girlfriend. He's taken. Off limits. That's when the hurt turns into an ache, and not just in his chest. Everywhere.

It doesn't last long though. It's not easy to hurt when there's a someone, with the softest, most delicious looking lips that give Blaine the goddamn _butterflies_ and these blue, shining eyes that are more beautiful than anything Blaine has ever seen.

It's impossible for Blaine to hurt when this someone has two steaming hot chocolates in his hands, and he holds one out to Blaine with a smile. And this smile is sweeter than honey and sugar and syrup and all the air is sucked out of Blaine's lungs and –

"I thought you looked cold," Kurt whispers, sitting. Closer than before. Then, very slowly, he reaches out, and his hand is on top of Blaine's, and he gives it the tiniest squeeze.

"I'm not anymore," Blaine says quietly. He looks at him, and blue meets hazel and there's a warmth in his chest and a gentle smile gracing his lips, "Thank you, Kurt."

"You're very welcome, Blaine," Kurt murmurs. And he moves over. Again. So the two of them are just a bit closer.

It's a good day. A really good day.

**~.~.~.~.~**

A few minutes later, they're drinking their hot chocolates. Quiet. There's people around them, of course – Blaine still sees none of them.

"I like the snow."

Kurt nods, "Me, too, Blaine."

They're both looking up at the sky, at the snowflakes falling ever so gently on the floor of white around them.

Blaine sighs. Plays with his fingers. Looks at Kurt. Then at anything but Kurt. Back at Kurt again. Then at anything but Kurt. And he looks at Kurt again.

"If you didn't have a girlfriend," he murmurs, "If you didn't have a girlfriend, and hypothetically, of course –"

"Of course," Kurt smiles.

And, god, it's the most _stunning_ – Blaine clears his throat and tries to focus. "If you didn't have a girlfriend, and I were to tell you that you were beautiful..."

"_Blaine_." Kurt's eyes are shut. He's smiling, gently breathing in and out. "You - you think I'm beautiful?" His blue eyes make Blaine's skin tingle.

"Of course I do," he whispers, like it's so simple. Obvious. Like there isn't a doubt in his mind. And there isn't.

Kurt doesn't answer his question. And to be fair, Blaine didn't finish asking. But Kurt's cheeks are pink and rosy. He's desperately trying to hide a smile. He's failing. He keeps rubbing at the back of his neck, shaking his head in disbelief.

And that tells Blaine everything he wants to know.

**~.~.~.~.~**

Fifty-seven minutes.

In fifty-seven minutes, Blaine learns that Kurt can make him laugh, just like that, without even trying. He learns that sometimes Kurt will laugh with him, and sometimes Kurt will just look – he'll bite his lip at first, eyes shining with adoration, and then very, very slowly, he breaks out into a smile that makes all the lights in New York City seem so dull and dark.

In fifty-seven minutes, Blaine learns that Kurt's favorite salad dressing is zesty Italian. And he would watch _Friends_ every second of every day, if he could. And he's addicted to strawberries and chocolate. And he has two orange kittens named Fred and George and they sleep cuddled on his chest seven nights a week. And he goes to NYU, and Blaine just transferred to NYU, so Blaine smiles so widely it hurts. He learns that he could listen to Kurt – watch how his eyes dance, study how his lips move, listen to his lovely voice. All day long.

In fifty-seven minutes, they talk about their hopes and dreams and they tease each other and – it's never been this easy. Blaine's a nice person. He's not hard to talk to. He can make a conversation. Keep it going. But with Kurt – it's effortless. He can't explain it.

He's just crazy. Kurt's just beautiful.

**~.~.~.~.~**

"Blaine?"

"Mm?" Blaine smiles at him. Just because he can.

"What's your favorite color?"

"Blue." Blaine's staring intently, right into Kurt's eyes. He sees Kurt's breath hitch, and there's a pretty blush heating his skin. "You look cute when you blush." A pause. "If you weren't taken I'd hold your hand."

Kurt's quiet.

For six seconds, he interlaces their fingers. His eyes twinkle with a joy and a happiness and Blaine's heart soars.

After those six seconds are up, Blaine looks at Kurt.

And the beautiful, beautiful boy looks as though he might cry. Blaine's heart hurts.

**~.~.~.~.~**

"Kurt."

"Blaine."

"I wanna ask you a question. Can I?"

"Of course."

"Your girlfriend. Does she ever tell you that you're beautiful?"

"... She doesn't."

"Oh."

That's what he says. He wants to tell Kurt that whoever he's with should call him beautiful. How he deserves better. How Kurt should be told how stunning he is at least eight times a day. How the thought of that not happening makes him so very angry.

But instead – _oh._

**~.~.~.~.~ **

Blaine turns and looks at him. "Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

Blaine speaks with a determined certainty, his voice low. He licks his lips. "You're beautiful." A long pause. "I wanted to tell you that. Okay? Because you are. You really are, Kurt. I know I'm being – ridiculous. Stupid. Absurd. Very creepy – "

"Blaine."

Blaine winces. "Really bold. And forward. You probably think I'm some sort of sexual predator or – "

"_Blaine_."

Blaine sighs. "Just – pathetic, honestly."

"Blaine. Would you stop it? You are wonderful. _Wonderful_."

Blaine's happy.

**~.~.~.~.~**

A few more minutes pass.

"I – I have to go," Blaine tells him, "I'm – NYU. I'll see you at NYU. Right?"

"Yeah," Kurt says, nodding, "You will. Of course."

"Good."

Blaine kisses his cheek. Long and gentle and tender and so sweet – Kurt tangles all of their ten fingers together, and holds them and squeezes them and Kurt's skin is against his and all of it is so good, his toes curl in his shoes.

Blaine can feel his smile,_ god.._.

He leaves.

He knows – he is completely and utterly certain he'll see Kurt again. He's not exactly sure how or why he's so sure. But he is.

And he wonders if Kurt's watching him go.

**~.~.~.~.~**

Blaine does meet his sister, eventually. Well. Step-sister. She's talking – she's always talking, but today's one of those days where her mouth has actually lost the ability to shut, even for a tiny second.

He doesn't want to move in with her. They'd never gotten along, not really. He's polite, of course – does everything he can to please her and gets nothing in return.

He was at the University of Massachusetts. But Rachel thought New York would be better for him. Their dads thought New York would be better for him. And now – here he is. Moving in with Rachel. And her 'cupcake'.

"Rachel, I'm – I'm nervous," he tells her, carrying his suitcase as they walk down the busy sidewalk, "What if your boyfriend completely hates me?"

"Blaine, he's the sweetest," she tells him, "He'll love you, you're my baby brother."

"But – "

"Kurt! Hi! My brother's here to meet you, cupcake."

Rachel runs over. Leaps into his arms. Squeezes him tight.

_Kurt_.

Blue meets hazel. _Oh_. His heart drops all the way down into the unknown depths of his stomach.

Blaine had called him beautiful and gorgeous and he made him laugh and looked at him with inevitable heart eyes and made a complete fool of himself, oh god. He was hers. _Kurt_. He was Rachel's. Rachel had Kurt.

His heart doesn't hurt. Everything aches. _Everything_. Jesus, he's gonna be sick...

He begs Kurt with his eyes – _don't tell her. Don't tell her about today. Don't tell her how I feel about you, or how my fingers still tingle from holding your hands, or how your eyes are more beautiful than anything I've ever seen. _

"Oh," Kurt says, and he looks at Blaine, just like he did, and Blaine feels his breath hitch and his cheeks flush and his heart skips a beat. He curses himself eternally. Kurt continues, "Uhm, I – wow. It's so nice to meet you. I'm Kurt."

A deep breath, he holds out his hand. "And I'm Blaine."

**~.~.~.~.~**

**A/N**

_Did anyone like it? Let me know. I'm very self-conscious. I want to dig a hole. And hide in it. Forever. _

_Title taken from a beautiful song written by the even more beautiful Sam Smith. Heart eyes. _

_I'm tired. And hungry. And I'm very sorry if this made anybody cringe. _

_Would anybody like a chapter two? _

_Thank you for reading. Even if it made you cringe. Still. Thank you :) _


	2. Welcome Home, Blaine

Leave Your Lover

**~ Chapter 2: Welcome Home, Blaine ~**

_Glee is owned by Ryan Murphy. And Ryan Murphy makes me really sad sometimes._

**~.~.~.~.~**

He tries to wrap his head around it.

He doesn't say a word as he walks with them back to the apartment. Rachel points out every sign, every building. And he's silent. He sees Kurt; he sees how – how sad he looks. So sad and hurt and broken and angry. And Blaine wants to tell him that it's okay. That it's okay, that he's here, and this is where he's staying. But he doesn't tell him anything.

His eyes are on the ground, because he can't look at them, he can't. He needs time. Because – Kurt said he had a girlfriend. Kurt had said he was taken. Off limits.

And he's with her. Rachel. _God_. He's with Rachel.

He tries to wrap his head around it.

He can't.

So he tries again. He just doesn't wanna think about it – about the two of them being together. About Rachel kissing him, holding his hand, waking up next to him every morning. He doesn't wanna think about it. But he has to. He says it over and over to himself, fingers balled into fists, his body tense.

_Kurt and Rachel are together. He's with Rachel. Your sister. Your sister is in love with him. He is in love with your sister. Kurt. Kurt. He's hers. She has Kurt. They'll get married. Have children. You'll be Uncle Blaine. Uncle Blaine. That's – that's just..._

He closes his eyes, squeezes them shut. Because he can't cry. Not here.

He tries to wrap his head around it.

_He can't_.

**~.~.~.~.~**

The first night he stays with Kurt and Rachel, he's terribly rude, and he's not proud of it. He's usually so – polite. Always, actually. He's not though, not tonight. And he's not very fond of his behavior. But he's even less fond of the way 'Kurt and Rachel' sounds in his head.

He leaves his room twice to pee, he ignores Kurt completely, and he tells Rachel that he doesn't feel well. He stays in his bed for the entire night.

He doesn't sleep.

He thinks about Kurt's eyes.

But he doesn't sleep.

**~.~.~.~.~**

There wasn't a day in Blaine Anderberry's life where he enjoyed the early morning.

Yesterday morning was – _wonderful_. With Kurt. Blaine imagines that everything with Kurt must be wonderful. He knows he'll never find out. But he imagines.

And he's never liked the morning. He thought yesterday was the only exception. He was wrong.

This morning is a beautiful morning.

Because of his bedhair. It was flawless before, not a strand out of place, coiffed to perfection. Now it's the complete opposite. It looks really – so soft, and incredibly messy, and Blaine... loves it. He shouldn't – he really shouldn't. But, god. He really does.

And because of his pajamas. He has sweats. And a white t-shirt, one that fits him – exactly right. Every curve, every line of his chest, every muscle... yeah. He looks good. Snuggable. Sexy. Adorable. _Hot_. And Blaine's throat is very, very dry. It shouldn't be. It is.

And because of his voice. It's lower. And raspy. And different. Every word he says, every clear of his throat, every time he laughs – it's driving Blaine crazy. In a good way. In the best way. He shouldn't be struggling to remember how breathing works. He is.

Lastly – because of Rachel. And because she's not here. She went to the store, to a class, to the car wash, to the pharmacy. Somewhere. Blaine's not sure. But she's not with them. It's Kurt. It's Blaine. That's it. And Blaine likes that. A lot.

It's Kurt, and it's Blaine, and they're at the breakfast table, and they're acting like everything's okay and they're making small talk. Until they aren't.

"I met someone yesterday," Kurt says to him, spreading some jam on a piece of toast. Blaine's breath hitches, and he – he listens. It's all he can do. All he wants to do. "In Central Park. And y'know what he told me? He told me that I – I was absolutely, mind-numbingly, inconceivably gorgeous. And maybe that isn't exactly true – "

Blaine gives him a look. It says _you're wrong_ and _shut up, you adorable freak_ and _you are aggravating and very cute and I'm losing my mind_, all in one.

"No," Blaine says. Then – he softens. He gives him a warm smile, warm as he can. Just because Kurt looks a little cold. "It is. It's true."

A smile. A real one. Blaine's heart soars... he put that there. He did that. Kurt looks at him again, and his eyes, his eyes. They're beautiful. Bright. They're _perfect_. They're so perfect that Blaine could cry, right there and then. He doesn't. But he could.

"He called me beautiful, too. We talked about our favorite colors. We talked about everything, actually. We held hands. And that was..." Kurt closes his eyes. Shakes his head. He's still smiling. "So _nice_. Y'know? Just. Really good."

"It was." And Blaine doesn't realize it, not at first. But he moves his chair closer to Kurt's. Just a bit.

"I'm dating his sister," Kurt sighs. He runs his hand through his hair. The bedhair, _god_. Blaine swallows roughly."I mean – I'm with her. For a long time. That's – yeah. But yesterday... yesterday was..."

"Wonderful?" Blaine supplies. A bit hopefully.

And Kurt nods, taking a sip of his coffee, flicking his eyes to Blaine's. But only for a second. "Wonderful."

They're both looking down at the table. And biting their lips, just to hide their smiles. They're not doing a very good job.

"I know it's awkward. I know that," Kurt tells him, and Blaine's eyes are on him, only him, and he hurts, a lot. But he listens. Kurt asks, "Can you just – can you please be my friend, Blaine?"

It's whispered. Hushed. Kurt's eyes look wet, not a whole lot of tears, but they're there. They're there, and – fuck. Blaine's heart. Blaine's heart is broken, and before he knows what he's doing, before he can begin to comprehend what the _hell_ he is doing, he's moving breakfast out of the way. And he trips on his own pant leg as he goes, rushing to take Kurt in his arms, just holding him so tight and close and – _perfect_. Actually, physically unable to help himself.

"_Yes_," he whispers, and Kurt's squeezing around his neck so tight and close and – perfect. "Kurt. Of course." And then again, softer. "Of course."

When they untangle their entwined bodies, Blaine looks at him. Just looks at him. Looks at him for a long, long time.

Yeah. This morning – it's a very, very beautiful morning.

**~.~.~.~.~**

Blaine gets twenty-three more minutes with him after that. Then Rachel comes back.

Before she does, in that twenty-three minutes, Fred and George come out from hiding in Kurt's bedroom. Adorable. They're adorable. They're two tiny kittens, with bright orange fur, and they're unfairly cute, but when he sees Kurt with them... kissing their noses, whispering silly things into their fur, letting them use him as their own personal jungle gym. He's done for. _He's done for_. He's – god, it kills him.

"Kurt," And she's back. Blaine wants to slap her. He shouldn't. He does. She's looking at Kurt like – like he's some monster. And no one should ever look at Kurt like that. "I told you. I hate those cats. They just – their hair gets everywhere, food and vet bills and all those toys you buy them cost us a fortune. And they can't stand me. They _can't stand _me."

George, who has a much rounder face, with white paws and a long tail, climbs from Kurt's lap to Blaine's, nuzzling into Blaine's gray hoodie. Blaine's heart soars. And if things were different, even just a little bit different – Blaine would say that Kurt's looking at him like he hangs the moon. But things aren't different.

"Hey there, little guy," Blaine murmurs, scratching behind his ears.

"He's usually so shy, Blaine. Oh, look at him," The two lock eyes. The air shouldn't be taken straight from Blaine's lungs, so easily, like it wasn't even there in the first place. It is. Kurt grins. Fuck. "He just loves you, doesn't he?"

"_Urgh_."

Rachel storms off. Blaine looks at Kurt. He seems unphased, watching her go, not even flinching when their bedroom door slams.

Blaine takes Fred from his arms, hoping his smile looks a bit sympathetic. Kurt leaves his seat, goes to talk her, sighing. Almost like it's practiced. A routine. Blaine curses himself. He's too hopeful, too optimistic, too sick in the head – falling for his sister's boyfriend. It's _wrong_. It's so wrong.

That doesn't stop him from getting out of his chair, saying, "Hey, wait. Uhm. Before you go." And he kisses Kurt's cheek. Notices three things. The creamy, delicious softness of his skin. The way Kurt's breath hitches (that's his imagination, he's sure of it). Kurt's small smile (that's – also probably his imagination, too...fuck).

"I'm sorry," Blaine rushes to get the words out. And he can't look at him. He _can't_. He wants him. He wants him too much. "I'm so sorry. We're friends. We're friends. I'm sorry."

Kurt walks towards his room.

"Blaine."

"Yes?" He can't look at him. Wants him too much.

"You apologized. Just a second ago. You said you were sorry."

"I am. Kurt – I'm sorry." Their eyes meet, just for a moment.

Kurt takes a deep breath. It's so quiet, Blaine almost doesn't hear them. But he says two words. And they make Blaine's heart skip four beats:

"Don't be."

**~.~.~.~.~**

"Happy Wednesday, boys."

Rachel twirls into the kitchen, a happy smile on her face. Kurt and Blaine are at the breakfast table. She kisses the top of Blaine's head. Then Kurt's lips. It's only for a second – it's barely even a kiss actually, just a peck. But Blaine clenches his fists. He's tense. He feels freezing, but burning hot, he can't breathe, he shouldn't be here, he's sick. He is _sick_.

"You look really pretty today, Rachel," Kurt says, giving her a smile. But he doesn't smile at her like he smiles at Blaine.

"Thank you, cupcake. You clean up pretty nice, too, I guess. Maybe change your shirt? Red isn't a great color on you."

Kurt frowns, looking down self-consciously. "Oh. Uhm. Yeah, god, sorry, I didn't even realize. I'll change."

He goes.

Blaine's fork is in curled in his palm. He's squeezing. It's about to snap. He's pissed. _Kurt's beautiful._

Rachel leaves. She has early classes, and then just a bit later are Kurt's, and Blaine's begin after his do. So she leaves. And Blaine's happy. His fork's okay.

A few minutes pass. Kurt is about to leave. And he can't help himself. Just before Kurt walks out the door, he decides to ask him. Take a chance.

"Do I – uhm. Kurt?"

Kurt turns around. He's looking at him – looking at him with the most gentle eyes Blaine has ever seen. He _melts_.

"Do I look... okay?" Blaine asks.

Kurt walks over to him. Slowly. Teasingly. He ties Blaine's bowtie for him, his warm fingers brushing over the skin on Blaine's neck – much more often than they should. Blaine is warm. So warm. All over.

Once Kurt finishes, he looks into Blaine's eyes. Hanging onto them for dear life. Blaine bites his lip.

Kurt whispers, "You're stunning."

He walks out the door.

Fuck.

**~.~.~.~.~**

"Happy Thursday, asshole."

Rachel walks into the kitchen. She's frowning. Kurt and Blaine are at the breakfast table, sitting just a bit closer than they were the day before.

And she complains. Cries, just a little. Whines. Groans. She's ungrateful. She has Kurt, she's ungrateful. And Blaine can't stand it.

She says he forgot their date night.

But he was working. He was working because Rachel wants this new bracelet, all fancy and nice and _Rachel_. And she wants Kurt to buy it for her, so he was working. Working his ass off, just to get a little thing – he's a _sweetheart_. He's a sweetheart, and he'll be the death of Blaine. And... he wouldn't have to buy Blaine anything. Ever. Just smile. If he smiled, Blaine would be a very happy guy.

Rachel leaves. And Blaine has to ask:

"You want a hug?"

Kurt smiles sadly at his uneaten toast, "Why?"

Blaine clears his throat. "Your girlfriend's angry with you. You must be sad. And I would like to give you a hug."

"I want to hug you because I want to hug you," Kurt murmurs, "Rachel has nothing to do with it."

Oh.

**~.~.~.~.~**

"Happy Friday, cupcake. And Blaine."

Rachel's okay again, Blaine realizes. He doesn't look at her for long. He smiles at her, only for a second. He doesn't wanna miss this. Can't miss this.

Kurt's laughing at – something. Something he said, and he can't even remember it now, not when Kurt is laughing like he is. Laughing until he's practically crying – so loud and bright and full of joy and _beautiful_, leaning his weight onto Blaine's shoulder, and Blaine could just... cry. Again. He could cry again, because Kurt is – Kurt. He's Kurt, and Blaine made him laugh, and he's so stunning. Right now. Yesterday. Tomorrow. A week from now. A decade from now. Eight years ago. Fifty years in the future.

_Stunning_. Always.

Blaine's not quite sure if Rachel left. If she's still here. He doesn't care. How could he? When Kurt is laughing like this, everything – it's gray. Dim. Dark. But him. He's color. Light. Goodness.

He doesn't stop smiling that day. Not once. Even when his mouth feels like it's going to fall off.

**~.~.~.~.~**

Two days after that, and Blaine and Rachel are walking down the street, weaving their way through all the people. And Blaine has to ask.

"So, uhm. What's the deal with Kurt? Is he straight, bi, something different? Does he give himself a label, or...?"

"Oh. He's straight," Rachel laughs. Like it's the most obvious thing. Like it's right there, like it's clear, like he should have been aware a long time ago. It stings. "Believe me, honey, he's straight as a line. Why do you ask?"

_Because I've been thinking about him. A lot. All the time. More than I should_. "No, I – I was just wondering, I suppose."

"Oh. He's my cupcake. Isn't he just... so sexy?" She sighs. Dreamily, lost in her own little world.

And Blaine tenses, his whole body becoming so stiff. _Yes. Don't look at him like that._ "It's not really my place to say, Rachel..."

"Don't worry, Blainey Berry," And he hates that nickname. He really, really does. He can't stand it, and it makes his stomach twist into an unpleasant knot, "We both know he is." She pauses. "And we'll make sure to keep it down while you're staying with us."

She winks. He's fairly certain he's going to be sick.

"Thanks."

Rachel slings an arm over his shoulder as they walk. She doesn't know how he feels... could never how he feels. Sick. In pain. Hurt. He's hurt. Blaine sighs. Rachel doesn't notice or doesn't care. She just says:

"Welcome home, Blaine."

**~.~.~.~.~**

**A/N**

_Okay. Um, the response to this has been kind of amazing? Seriously. You guys are too nice to me. 20 REVIEWS. Thank you. Like. I don't know. Just... thank you (sending you all virtual hugs.)_

_Sorry for this. I feel like it's disorganized. With no plot. And awful characterization. And – yeah. If you like it, you're awesome. If you hate it, you're also awesome._

_I'm also veryyyy sorry for the wait. _

_Have a wonderful day/night/sleep/meal/whatever :)_

_- Katie_


	3. That's Because He Is

**~ Chapter Three: That's Because He Is ~**

_A/N – It's been a month and I'm a terrible person and I'm sorry? But thank you so much. Again. For so many reviews and followers and favorites._

**~.~.~.~.~**

After almost a month of being a sophomore at NYU, Blaine knows perfectly well how to get to his classes. But he wouldn't tell Kurt that. Because Kurt walks him to each one, every day. And. Well. Blaine really, really loves it. He actually loves every minute – each and every one of the minutes he gets with just Kurt, only Kurt... he adores them. He adores him. But he wouldn't tell Kurt that, either.

As they walk through the hallways, Blaine feels dizzy. He feels dizzy because he looks at him, he looks at Kurt, and it's just – he's just... _wow._

Blaine clears his throat. "Can I – would you tell me something, Kurt?

"Of course," Kurt says.

And when he smiles, Blaine can't look away. His breath hitches. His fingers twitch. But he can't look away. He's staring. And Kurt catches him. He always catches him. He doesn't get angry. Upset. Creeped out. He just slings an arm over Blaine's shoulder and effortlessly pulls him right into his side. Like he's been doing it for years. Like Blaine belongs there – close to him.

"How... how did you and Rachel get together?" Even though he's not quite sure he even wants to know.

Kurt's quiet for a long while. Blaine's scared he's said the wrong thing. Or pushed too far. Or offended him in some way. But then –

"We met right in there, y'know."

Blaine looks up at him. "Really?"

Kurt takes a deep breath. He bites his lip. Closes his mouth. Opens his mouth. In a way, it looks like it's difficult for him. Difficult for him to talk about.

"We were in the same dance class," Kurt murmurs, "We became friends. She didn't like her roommate. I was looking for one. So she moved in with me."

He's silent. Again. He takes an even deeper breath. He chews on his lip. Closes his mouth twice. Opens his mouth twice.

"You can tell me," Blaine says softly, giving Kurt a gentle smile, looking at the ground and blushing when Kurt returns it. "Kurt, I wouldn't – I wouldn't judge you. Not ever."

And he didn't see. Of course, of course he didn't see – but Kurt was looking at his lips. Staring at them. And then Kurt's breath hitched. His fingers twitched. But Blaine didn't see. He didn't see any of it.

"A month after that," Kurt clears his throat, "We were skating at Rockefeller Center and she kissed me," He shrugs, "And here we are."

"Here you are." A sad smile slowly spreads across Blaine's lips. He swallows a lump in his throat. And then Kurt squeezes his shoulder once, pulls his arm away, and Blaine bites his tongue when all he wants to do is tell him: _No. Stay._

But there is this one moment. One moment of blue and hazel and nothing else. One moment where Blaine looks at Kurt and Kurt looks at Blaine. One moment where the world disappears around them. One moment where he's so completely and utterly lost in Kurt's beautiful eyes that he forgets – everything. And Blaine wonders if it's like this for anyone else.

But Rachel. Rachel's there now, and she squeezes right in between them, and Blaine bites his tongue when all he wants to do is say _leave._

"My two favorite boys!" She links one arm with Kurt's, then one with Blaine's. Blaine looks at the ground. "What are we talking about today?"

"I was actually just telling Blaine how we got together," Kurt says.

Rachel scoffs, "Oh, cupcake, I'm sure you left out so many details."

Rachel tells him how they met in a dance class. How when Kurt looked at her, she felt like she was the only girl in the world. How they stayed friends for a while, but only because Kurt was so sweet, so shy, so cute. Too nervous to ask her out on a date. She was living with this girl that she couldn't stand, and Kurt practically saved her life. He was her hero. She tells him how the sexual tension was too much to bear, how she could see Kurt falling more and more in love with her every day. How their kiss at Rockefeller Center was the best first kiss she could ever ask for.

Rachel tells Blaine, "And now I'm his everything."

And Blaine hopes the tears in his eyes aren't too noticeable. He chokes out, "I bet you are."

**~.~.~.~.~**

As soon as he walks out of the door of Music History, Kurt is waiting for him.

"Oh," Blaine can't help but smile, "Uh. Hey. Hi."

"I'm sorry," Kurt sighs. He reaches for Blaine's hand and squeezes it tenderly, just for a second. "About her. I don't – I don't know what that was."

"She likes to prove herself," Blaine says quietly, memories of feeling so invisible when he was just a little boy clouding his mind, "Prove that she can have things I – things I want. Things I can never have."

"You – you want me?"

Blaine doesn't say anything. Not a word. He looks at Kurt, and Kurt looks at him, and that's enough. That's enough because Kurt's cheeks glow with a soft pink, and he scratches the back of his neck, and Blaine just watches him. Looks at him. That's all he can do, really. He's absolutely, mind-numbingly, inconceivably gorgeous.

"There's this tiny café that just opened a few blocks from here," Kurt says after a moment, "I'll buy you a coffee. We can eat cookies until we feel like we're gonna be sick. Talk about anything but the burning sexual tension between me and your sister."

Blaine laughs. Kurt looks at him. He doesn't see it. He's lucky he doesn't see it, because – because if he could've seen how Kurt was looking at him... he would have kissed him right there and then.

"Yes. Yeah, I'd like that a lot, Kurt."

"2:30?"

Blaine smiles. Tries not to get too lost in Kurt's eyes. He whispers, "Uhm, yeah. Yeah, 2:30."

**~.~.~.~.~**

To Blaine (1:02) – Did you make plans with Kurt later?

**To Rachel (1:06) — ****Yeah... we were just gonna go get some coffee.**

To Blaine (1:07) – Okay. Yep. No. Cancel them. He's taking me out. We haven't been out in a long time.

**To Rachel (1:09) — ****You went out last night.**

To Blaine (1:09) – Blaine.

To Blaine (1:11) – Blaine.

To Blaine (1:13) – Blaine!

To Blaine (1:15) – bLAINE!

**To Rachel (1:16) — ****Fine.**

**~.~.~.~.~**

_To Blaine (2:12) – __I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. First, that. Now this._

_To Blaine (2:12) – __She can be. Uhm. Very demanding._

**To Kurt (2:13) – ****I know. And it's not your fault. Not at all.**

**To Kurt (2:13) – ****Another time?**

_To Blaine (2:14) – __Yes, please._

**~.~.~.~.~**

Blaine goes to the café anyway. He meets Brendan Miller. And Brendan Miller is... nice.

But Brendan Miller's skin is too tan. Too rugged. Too rough. It's not – not like his, not like _Kurt's,_ creamy and smooth and gorgeous. And Brendan Miller has green eyes. Green. _Green_. Green eyes, not blue, not blue like Kurt's, and his green eyes are painfully, unbearably dull. Brendan Miller's hair is a mop – a shaggy mess of blonde. Not like his. Nothing like his. Blaine doesn't particularly care for it. Brendan Miller is tall. Muscular. Every woman in the small café is – drawn to him. Drooling. Entirely and foolishly and ridiculously captivated.

Blaine isn't. He's not Kurt.

Brendan Miller sits down at a tiny table, at Blaine's tiny table, right across from him. He introduces himself with a smile. And Brendan Miller, Blaine realizes, is very, very – interested. In him.

"Look," Brendan tells him, "I'm not asking you to marry me or anything. I just want a date. I want to take you out. Whenever you're free."

He's not Kurt.

Blaine closes his eyes. He sighs. "I'm – there's this guy, okay? And he's – _god_, he's – he's just..."

Brendan takes a small sip of his drink, "Do you have a chance with him?"

And Blaine thinks.

_Probably not. Actually, no. Definitely not. It won't happen. It can't happen. But it's – it's worth it. It's _worth_ it. _He's_ worth it._

"I'll make you forget, Blaine," Brendan smiles, "I mean – I could... do that for you."

He's not Kurt.

"No," Blaine murmurs, eyes firm on the table, "You couldn't. It's him. He's... he's..."

"Unforgettable?" Brendan supplies.

And Blaine nods, "Yes," His throat is dry, the air sucked out of lungs, just thinking about him – god. He says, "You could – you could definitely say that."

Brendan Miller reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. "Here. Just give me your number. I'll give you mine," He smirks at Blaine, leaning in just a bit closer, "The offer always stands, sexy."

And Blaine nods, "Alright."

_He's not Kurt._

**~.~.~.~.~**

Blaine decides that nights where Rachel is at rehearsals for Funny Girl are his favorite nights.

The kittens are much bigger now. But George is still on his lap, and Fred is on Kurt's, and he and Kurt sit together on the couch, and they're not, like – cuddling. Not really. They're just sitting very, very, very close together. So their sides are touching and their legs are touching and they could completely melt into each other at any moment.

"You know, I – I used to be... a performer," Kurt tells him, "I didn't care what anyone thought. I wore the most ridiculous outfits."

Blaine rolls his eyes at him. He's quiet for a moment, giving his attention to George, scratching behind the cat's ears. He takes in a little breath of air. Then he looks at Kurt.

"You – you look wonderful," He says quietly, a tiny, sincere smile on his lips, "In whatever you wear. I'm sure they weren't ridiculous."

"Rachel thought they were."

Blaine's blood boils. He wants to say –

_I can't stand it._

_I can't stand it when she makes you feel like that._

_I can't stand the fact that I can't call you beautiful whenever I please._

_I can't stand it when you're happy and smiling and so gorgeous and then she comes along and takes it all away._

_I can't stand how she's with you and I'm not._

Instead, he says, "So. Ohio? You grew up in Ohio?"

"Yep. McKinley High."

"Rachel and I were home schooled," Blaine says, as Kurt looks at him with those twinkling eyes. God, he's – he's crazy about those twinkling eyes. "Our dads were convinced that no one could provide a better education for us than themselves."

"Ohio. God – you... you were so close."

Blaine's heart breaks. "I wish I found you first," He whispers.

Very slowly, Blaine wraps his arm around him, pulls Kurt towards him. And Kurt leans down – his head on Blaine's shoulder. He fits... perfectly there. Absolutely perfect.

Kurt falls asleep. Just like that. Right there. With Blaine. And Blaine doesn't mean to watch him – sleep. Not in a creepy way. But Kurt... Kurt is _so beautiful_. He can't help himself.

Blaine falls asleep, too. His arms are wrapped so tightly, so protectively around Kurt when he does, in a way that says _I'll never let anyone hurt you._

Rachel finds them like that.

She's not happy. But she doesn't say anything.

**~.~.~.~.~**

Blaine always liked the kitchen. It's where he and Kurt have breakfast every morning. Where Kurt has bedhair, and pajamas that fit him exactly right, and a morning voice that makes him go _oh_.

Now, the kitchen is covered in cake batter and eggs and flour and sugar and frosting and milk.

So is he.

So is Kurt.

"You see what you do, Kurt Hummel?" Blaine grins, cracking another egg over Kurt's hair, his heart fluttering when Kurt laughs. "Disgraceful. Absolutely disgraceful."

"My hair. _Blaine_. My _hair_. How could you do that to my hair?"

"You started it. This whole thing," Blaine pokes him in the chest. Kurt rolls his eyes. He's smiling. He's smiling, and it's gorgeous. He's smiling, and Blaine wants it... wants him smiling, always. "You."

"I put – one drop! One tiny, little dab of frosting on your nose."

Blaine murmurs, "C'mere."

Kurt does, and Blaine wraps one arm around his waist, and cups Kurt's jaw with his other hand. He gently runs his finger over his lip, telling Kurt he had some flour on his mouth when there was nothing there at all.

Rachel finds them like that.

She's not happy. But she doesn't say anything.

**~.~.~.~.~**

A week after that, it's two in the morning and Blaine sits too close to him, their chairs practically on top of each other, drinking tea that's too hot, while Rachel snores in the other room.

They don't say anything. No words at all. They just hold hands under the table. They don't need to make conversation. It's peaceful. It's Kurt and Blaine. Blaine knows that Kurt's next to him, that Kurt's hand is in his, that he would do just about anything to keep it there. It's perfect. _Perfect_.

And it's silent until it's not.

"What are you thinking about?" Kurt asks him, and his voice, _his voice_.

Blaine isn't certain about a lot of things. But one thing he is absolutely and entirely sure of is that he could never tire of hearing that gorgeous voice.

"I'm thinking..." Blaine lifts their interlaced fingers above the table. Up to his lips. He kisses Kurt's soft skin, as gently as he can, "I'm thinking about how easy it would be to kiss you right now."

For a long while, Kurt looks down at his tea. Blaine's heart begins to pound out of nerves, but then Kurt stares at him with those twinkling eyes.

He murmurs, "Me, too."

They talk about everything and nothing and anything until the sun comes up.

Rachel finds them like that.

She's not happy. And she needs to say something.

**~.~.~.~.~**

It only takes two more days for Rachel to break.

"Blainey?"

Blaine peeks his head into the living room. He gulps. Rachel's smiling – but it's fake. Forced.

"Yes, Rachel?"

He goes and sits down on the couch next to her, wishing Kurt would just get home from the grocery store already. Kurt – Kurt never lets Rachel hurt him. Never lets her look down on him, talk badly about him, talk badly _to_ him. Never.

As soon as he sits down, Rachel stands up. Her eyes – her eyes are terrifying, nothing like Kurt's, nothing like Kurt's at all. Blaine flinches.

"He's mine," she tells him.

Blaine says nothing.

"Blaine," Rachel's voice gets louder, "Blaine, you – you look at him like... like he's perfect."

Blaine doesn't look at her. He looks at the ground. He can't look at her. He won't look at her. He says quietly, almost a whisper, "That's because he is."

He really, really is. _Kurt_.

"He doesn't like boys, Blaine!" She says, her voice dangerously low, "Go find somebody who does."

He can't look at her. He won't look at her. He wants Kurt. Just one second, one second of Kurt's eyes, or the sound of his laugh, or his lips, _his lips –_

But he can't have Kurt. He wipes the tear with his sleeve before Rachel can see it.

"Okay."

**~.~.~.~.~**

**To Brendan (3:06) — ****Hey. It's Blaine. The guy from the café. Is that offer still on the table? For the date?**

To Blaine (3:09) – Always on the table ;)

**To Brendan (3:16) — ****Okay.**

**To Brendan (3:16) — ****Wanna see a movie sometime?**

To Blaine (3:17) – I thought you'd never ask.


End file.
